Beg for It
by aviddaydreamer
Summary: Everyone has a weakness. All it takes is to find just the right spot and press. Sooner or later, everyone breaks.  Dark: torture, lemons, non-con/dub-con, language. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: Those rumors circulating the internet that I'm actually JKR incognito? Totally false. Not mine (for obvious reasons).

**Warning: This is dark. And sort of pointless (as long as you don't consider smut a valid point), in that I really don't plan on continuing it. If you don't enjoy smut, or wickedness, or are actually 12 years old (or any age under 18), please read something else. **

Beg for It

Lucius stalked slowly between the two cells, surreptitiously watching their occupants tense and cringe away from his proximity. He'd always prided himself on his ability to read others, their thoughts, their emotions, in the subtle shifts in body language, the movement of the facial muscles. You could tell so very much about a person simply by watching them react to stress.

The boy, for example, was strung tight as a bow, ready to snap under the slightest pressure. There was undiluted fury in his blue eyes, and desperation in his clenched fists. He could prove a useful source of information, but little else. He'd not survive captivity long.

The girl, on the other hand, showed a surprising level of control for one so young. Her sharp, brown eyes followed his every movement closely, and he could almost hear the gears of her reputably impressive mind churning away with every passing second. Where the boy was all heat and anger, she was cold, calculated intelligence. She would not be easy to break, but if he could only manage it, she'd prove much, much more useful.

A pause in front of the boy's cell, a deliberate fingering of his wand was all it took to give her away. A twitch, just a slight jerk in the taut muscle of her cheek, was all he needed to determine her weak spot.

Lucius bit back a triumphant smirk and leveled his wand through the bars of Ron Weasley's cell. "_Crucio_."

His screams filled the dungeons, reverberating alarmingly off the wet stone walls, bouncing around the empty space until the very bars shook with them. His long body writhed on the floor, limbs jerking and curling in, clawing against phantom flames and blades, scratching long, angry marks in the pale, freckled skin of his face and neck.

"_Stop, please stop!" _She pounded her small fists on the heavy bars of her cell, successfully drawing his attention away from the pitiful figure on the floor.

Lowering his wand, he turned toward her with one raised brow, expectant.

"Please…" The threat of tears was evident in her voice, but outwardly, she held herself together well. "Please, what do you want from us?"

Lucius moved to stand across from her, impressed despite himself when she did not shrink away from his presence. "I believe you know what I want, Miss Granger."

She ground her teeth together, eyes flashing. "You have to know we can't tell you anything—the fidelius charm cannot be broken by threat or force or even torture. You're wasting your time."

"Am I?" Moving in closer, he watched her fight the instinct to draw back, draw away from his reaching hand. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her face back just so until she was peering directly into his eyes from below. He could see the frantic beat of her pulse beneath the fine skin of her throat, could count the gathering beads of sweat on her brow, but for all her apparent fear, she held her ground, expression neutral. "Perhaps you've something else to offer, then? Something besides information?"

He watched horrified awareness dawn in those wide, brown eyes of hers, but still she held her ground. "I don't know what I could possibly offer you that the fidelius would allow me to give. I've—_we've_ got nothing."

"Nothing?" He allowed himself a smirk, a malicious little smirk that sent a barely noticeable tremble through her slight frame. "Perhaps, if that's true, I'd best just dispose of you now. No sense in _wasting my time_, after all."

Releasing her chin, he strode purposefully back to the now unconscious boy's cell, leveling his wand once more at the twitching figure, only to pause at the sound of her cry.

"_No_! _Anything,_ I'll do anything, please!"

"Well. That does sound promising."

oOo

Lucius checked the clock one last time and made his way to the heavily warded room at the end of the hall. Letting himself inside with a casual wave of his wand, he found her waiting just as he'd instructed, bathed and dressed in the garments he'd left for her and perched delicately at the end of the bed. He allowed himself a pleased smile, appreciative that she would be compliant despite the fear sending visible tremors through her small body.

She watched him warily as he circled the bed, coming to a stop just in front of her. Her hands fisted the bedding beneath her as she fought the urge to run, her jaw taut and face pale. She flinched as he reached towards her, and Lucius drew back with a tisk.

"Now, Miss Granger, why so frightened? I see no reason to harm you, so long as you do as you're told. I am, believe it or not, a man of my word."

Hermione squared her shoulders and steeled her nerves as he traced a gentle finger across her cheek and down under her chin, tilting her face up towards him. "Such a brave girl," he murmured softly.

Hermione let her eyes slip shut as he kneeled in front of her, bracing herself for a violence that would never come. She didn't understand the motivations of a man like Lucius; she assumed he'd get his pleasure from her pain, his power from her helplessness. True, he could have taken her fast and hard, driven on by the sound of her cries, but Lucius knew a much greater pleasure was waiting to be had. The real pleasure would be had by conquering _all _of her, by taking not just his pleasure, but hers as well, against her will. She may not want this, but he'd having her _begging_ for it before the night's end.

Hermione didn't understand this, and her shock was palpable as she felt the first gentle, sensual caress of his mouth over the wild pulse in her neck. He moved his attentions lower, leaving a path of fire in his wake, teasing her delicate skin with lips, tongue and teeth. He continued his slow exploration of the space between her neck and shoulder until he felt her relax slightly against him. He drew back, sweeping his eyes over her once before placing a soft, lingering kiss against her trembling lips.

"Stand." She obeyed his soft-spoken command, and he stood with her. Fingering the thin strap of her nightgown, he pressed another kiss to her mouth. "Take it off."

Again, she complied, and the silky garment pooled around her bare feet. He took a moment to let his eyes wander down her slender body, lingering appreciatively on the small, pert breasts that heaved with her tremulous breaths, before stopping at the chaste pair of white cotton knickers she still wore.

Tracing a finger lightly across the waist of her knickers from one hip to the other, he leaned in to whisper hotly in her ear, "And these, Miss Granger. Show me all of you."

Her hands shook as she shimmied out of them, but her eyes remained dry. A promising sign, he noted.

"Lie back on the bed." He stood his ground while she moved carefully back on the bed, inching back with her legs held tightly together, until her head rested on the plush pillows at the other end. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her, so pale and lovely against the dark coverlet as he leisurely removed his robes. He watched with amusement her struggle to keep her eyes off his body as he undressed, her need for modesty warring with the instinctual urge to keep her would-be attacker in her sight at all times. He watched her eyes dart down and quickly away as he pushed his pants off his hips, noting the nervous flush that spread across her cheeks and the way her thighs pressed harder together.

He moved onto the bed until he held himself over her, his eyes level with her navel. "Lovely" he whispered, pressing a kiss into the smooth skin of her stomach. He slid his lips up, over the ridge of her ribcage and on to the underside of her breast. He kissed his way across to the tight, dusty pink nipple before taking it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue and taking it between his teeth, tugging gently.

Hermione squirmed ever so slightly beneath him, her breath coming in hot, short little pants as her hands pulled and twisted the coverlet under her. Lucius drew himself up to watch the play of emotions across her face; fear, embarrassment, and nerves, all covering a very real arousal she seemed desperate to suppress. He moved in to kiss her while his hand traced soft patterns across her skin, down her arm to her hips, across her belly and down to tease at the small thatch of dark hairs. Her hand moved instinctively to his shoulder to push him away, but she quickly overpowered the impulse and held tight to it instead.

He used her moment of distraction to snake his tongue between her parted lips, stroking and teasing her mouth lightly. She relaxed into the kiss, letting out an involuntary sigh as he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth.

"Hermione." His breath ghosted across her parted lips.

"Hm?" she responded dazedly.

"Open your legs for me."

She tensed a little at his words, nibbling enticingly on her lip. Her nerves seemed to be returning, but when she opened her mouth to protest, he moved in again for another, more forceful kiss. She unsteadily moved her legs apart until there was just enough space for his hand to occupy, tightening her hold on his shoulder as he curled his fingers around, cupping her intimately. He pressed a finger between her folds, groaning low in his chest at the hint of moisture found there. He began tracing a circuitous route, from circling her tight entrance to stroking her clitoris, easing further inside her with each pass until pressing his long finger deep inside her to stroke at her slick walls, while his thumb pressed circles around her clit, all the while kissing a path to the sensitive skin below her ear.

Lucius smirked triumphantly against her neck at the breathy little moans she couldn't quite hold back, the way her legs shook ever so delicately, and the gathering moisture between her thighs. Her hand slid from the bracing hold on his shoulder up and into his long hair, her slender fingers twisting and tangling in it as a particularly wicked twist of his fingers left her clenching and spasming around them.

Drawing back, he looked down at her flushed face, eyes heavy-lidded, chest heaving under a fine sheen of sweat. Removing his hand from between her thighs, he took hold of her hip and rolled, pulling her on top of him, her pale thighs straddling his hips.

She blinked in shock at the new position, even as her hips shifted involuntarily, fitting the hard length of his cock in the hot space between her legs with a gasp. Lucius took her shoulders and gently pushed her upright, and then smoothed one hand down to knead and tease at her breast.

"I…" she faltered, cheeks blushing crimson as she bit her lip nervously.

"Lift." Lucius ordered softly with a guiding hand on her hip. She raised herself up as Lucius positioned his aching cock beneath her. Her already heavy breathing picked up as the blunt head pressed against her still intact hymen, feeling foreign and strange and simply huge against her inexperienced body.

She swallowed convulsively, turning panicked eyes back to Lucius.

"It will hurt less if you do it yourself."

She seemed to accept the logic in this, as she bit down on her lip and furrowed her brow, focusing on lowering her body slowly, gradually impaling herself on his waiting cock. He felt it when he came up against the barrier of her virginity, saw her wince slightly before bracing herself with a steadying hand on his chest. The look in her eyes was not frightened, but rather determined as she pushed down with her hips, tearing past that thin wall with a harsh gasp.

He held back his own gasp at the incredible tightness encasing him, silently grateful for the pause she took, allowing her body time to adjust. He used the moment to stroke his hands in soothing circles over her thighs and abdomen, and on up to cup her breasts and stroke her neck. She closed her eyes, leaning into his cradling touch and his chest filled with the warm satisfaction of absolute triumph.

With her eyes still closed, she rocked her hips experimentally, grinding her clit against his pelvis as he worked even further inside her. She gasped a little and repeated the action, and, guided by his hands on her hips, set up a slow rhythm, gradually easing higher and higher before rolling her hips down again. Before long, she had worked up to a steady pace, rolling her body with an innate sensuality that she seemed perfectly unaware of. He let her control the tempo, content to watch her work her pleasure from him for the time being.

It didn't take much longer until her movements became almost frantic, her eyes screwed tight in concentration as the softest little mewling noises escaped her parted lips. Holding his own release at bay, he moved his hand to where their bodies met, circling his thumb over her clit while his hips snapped up to meet hers. Her mewls became cries as her movements stuttered and stilled until she was just grinding against him continuously.

Lucius tightened his hold on her hip and focused all of his energy on controlling his lust, denying his release as her tight little body clenched and grasped at him mercilessly. Finally, she slumped forward over his chest, panting to catch her breath amid what sounded to be the first of her tears.

Without pause, he held her tightly to him and rolled until he lay over her with her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes as he crushed her mouth with his, swallowing her sobs. He'd let her have her pleasure, now he would have his. His hips drew back and then snapped forward, driving into her with a force that shocked her eyes wide open.

"That's right, pet, look at me while I fuck you."

She gasped as he set up a brutal rhythm, slamming into her hard and fast while his gunmetal eyes remained locked onto hers. She was shocked to feel her body responding to this treatment, a pleasure building that was darker, more intense than what she'd experienced moments prior. A hard snap of his hips had her moaning low in her throat as his hand moved to the side of her neck, his thumb stretching across to stroke her mouth.

"Say my name. I want to hear it, want you to _know_ who's fucking you."

Hermione could feel something dark coiling inside her, stretching tighter and tighter and positively _throbbing_ at his words.

"L-Lucius…_oh god_…"

"_Again_."

"Y-yes…Lu-cius!"

"Louder!"

"_Lucius_!" she all but screamed just as the coil within her broke, sending out white hot spokes of pure, blistering pleasure. Above her, Lucius pressed his face into her neck, groaning brokenly as his hips stuttered and slowed, filling her with a burning warmth that leaked out onto her thighs as he pulled away.

She lay, boneless and exhausted, staring at the ceiling as he rose from the bed and began redressing. He could just make out the hint of so many things, panic, remorse, fear, all bubbling beneath the surface in her flushed features, but she fought it back admirably. He was, for the umpteenth time that day, impressed.

He paused at the door, hand already on the handle, and turned back to her. "You've done well today, Miss Granger. Bathe, rest. I'll have dinner sent up shortly."

Hermione closed her eyes and spoke her response to the ceiling in a soft voice. "Ron?"

"I'm a man of my word, Miss Granger. Your freckled friend is safe for now."

She turned away, her shoulders beginning to shake, as he left the room. He made his way to his study, where he retrieved a small vial and a bit of parchment. He spent a moment gathering the desired images and arranging them in the most suitable order. The Weasley boy, falling to the floor, the mudblood pushing her knickers past her knees, the boy's screams, Hermione impaling herself on his cock, nails raking bloody paths down freckled skin, her voice, screaming his name in rapture…

He drew his wand away from his temple, pulling with it a fine, silver mist. Depositing it in the vial, he put in the stopper and scratched a short missive on the parchment.

"Kreacher!"

A sharp crack preceded the arrival of a most grizzled old house elf, already stooped low in a formal bow. "Master Malfoy." His glassy eyes shone with that perfect mixture of fear and adulation most sought after in one's servants, and Lucius offered a cold smile.

"Make sure this finds its way to Potter. When the time comes, bring him directly to me. Understood?"

"Yes, Master. Kreacher is most honored to serve the regal house of Malfoy." Another crack and the elf was gone.

Lucius poured himself a glass of Brandy and settled into a large chair in front of the fire, pleased with the day's work. He'd always prided himself in his ability to read others—to find their weaknesses. Everyone has them. All it takes is to find just the right spot and _press_. Sooner or later, everyone breaks.


End file.
